The Journal of Desmond Price
by DeadLight63
Summary: She walks amongst the empty barracks. There is little there other than blood and her comrades. She looks to a bed. There is something there. A book.
1. Entry 1

The book is dusty. No one else pays the journal any mind. It belongs to a grunt, after all. She does, though. She picks it up. It's leather is tattered, the cover covered in blood. She opens the cover. A name, written neatly. Property of Desmond Price, it says. She flips to the first page.

 _Sometimes I wonder if the Milita has the right idea. We call them Terrorists, but I can still remember the colony. Men, wives, children, even infants. We didn't spare any of them. How can we be the innocent party when we did something like that? Does forgiveness extend to child killers, I wonder? I don't think it does, most days. Other days, I hope against probability that it does._

 _Thing is, we always show up when the Militia attacks. But they don't. Some places we wipe clean, and the Militia isn't so much as hinted at having been there. We say we're better than the robots, but can we really say that's true? They're programmed to do IMC's dirty work at least. We're not programmed, but we do it anyway. I don't sleep at night anymore. Not normally, at least. It's fitful and disturbed. An hour here, two awake, maybe another two there, then three awake. Yet others sleep soundly, and peacefully._

 _For all my sleepless nights, nightmares, and agonized cries though, I can't leave the IMC. Militia has to bring their families along with them, to the fight. The bullets, Titans, Pilots, and other unspoken horrors. Worse, there's no money involved. How do you feed your family without so much as one credit? I can't force Amy though that. Little Walter deserves better too. So maybe her husband is a killer, maybe his father a monster, but I love them none the less. I have to press on. Even if I hate myself for it. I love them too much._

 _They say forgivness covers all blemishes. I pray they're right, whoever they are._

 _\- Price_


	2. Entry 2

She flips the page.

 _A nightmare. No one else is awake. The base is quiet as a graveyard. Thinking on it, it's sad I know how quiet a graveyard. I may as well write down my nightmare. Maybe it'll give me some sense of peace. At least enough to get more than an hour of sleep._

 _There's a young boy. He's crying. I tried to reach out him, but he vanishes. I looked behind me. It was me. At least, some version of me. He had horns on his head, jutting out of the top. There was fire behind him, and I could hear crying. The boy was dead in his arms. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I wanted to go get him, to comfort the boy who seemed to be crying. But I didn't. I couldn't. I just watched as I turned around, and carried the boy into the flames. Monster. I hear the word monster. I fell to my knees, and I heard an agonized scream, more crying. A mother... A mother lementing the loss of her child. I knew the sound,and to my shame, I knew it far too well. I covered my ears, but it didn't get any quieter. If anything, it got louder._

 _And so I stayed for an hour. It wouldn't end. Until it did. I wonder... If Hell is worse than our greatest nightmares, what will it be like? I don't know. I don't want to. But no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I have a dread feeling that one day, possibly one day soon, I will find out._

 _I just want to go home._

 _\- Price_


	3. Entry 3

She shakes her head and turns the next page.

 _I think the worst part is no one cares. We're Grunts. All people care about is what the Pilots think, and they don't have to do the dirty work. They get to keep their hands somewhat clean, all they kill is combatants. But what about us? The ones who kill innocent bystanders, people who didn't even want to be in this war? People who got caught in the middle of a warzone? People in the wrong place at the wrong time? No, no one cares what we think._

 _Why should we, they say. They're cannon fodder, they say. They're not even worth the dirt under the foot of a spectre, they say. Does anyone realize what that's really like? They say that our problems don't matter. Just shut up and shoot. Don't think you're important. You can be replaced in the blink of an eye. We don't NEED you. They train us to think like that. They tell us we are just a means to an end. You're a target for their Pilots, they tell us._

 _I know the Militia doesn't work that way. I see Pilots helping Grunts up when they get kicked around by Spectres. That doesn't happen here. Pilots kick us around here. Only people outside the IMC care about us. That's the only reason we get a paychek. But does that even matter? If our superiors see us as insignificant, how can we ever feel like we're important?_

 _I don't know, and it wouldn't matter if I did. They wouldn't care. Maybe I shouldn't either._

 _\- Price_


	4. Entry 4

She turns the page, unsure of what to think of everything she has read.

 _There's a transfer today. We're moving out to Hammond Robotics, something about the Militia pushing us too far and needing to defend the building. Or so Blisk says. I don't know, it's just another day at the office for us Grunts. The Captain says this is the most important mission of the war yet. I honestly don't know if I care enough to agree. All the days are blurring together at this point._

 _Move out point is two days from now, at the first light. Cruisers will pick us up with the Pilots; engineers on board will work on making the Spectres. I got a letter from home today. Amy says Walter said his first word today. "Mama". Wish I could have been there, I want to spend more time with him, Amy, just my family in general. A father should be there for his son, a husband for his wife. But at least I can get them the money they need to live comfortably. One good thing about fighting in the IMC is they pay a pretty penny for it, even to low class Grunts like myself._

 _Well, that and the company I suppose. These are good guys for the most part. They're just jaded. Wish I could be a little like that. I just can't get used to this stuff. Some days I don't know if want to, or if I do. Either way, IMC and Militia are going to clash at some point in the next few days. Captain says to remember one crucial thing tomorrow. Keep the safety off._

 _As if that hasn't been drilled into our heads enough._

 _\- Price_

"Simmons. We're out of here, let's go." Her Colonel said. She looked up to him and nodded, sliding the journal into her uniform.


	5. Entry 5

She carries her carbine with her, holding out a hand as a Drop ship pulls close to the ground. An officer on board in a Pilot uniform holds out his hand, which she accepts. She quickly finds her seat and sits down as the other Pilots are helped on board. She slips the journal out of her uniform, and opens to the page where she left off. At the top of the page is a rough drawing of Hammond robotics, at the bottom is a map.

 _Hammond Robotics is a marvel. We arrived yesterday night and set up shop the next morning. I don't think any of us have had any sleep in the past eighteen hours. Can't say I'm surprised, any time it looked like we might, and the Captain knocked us over the head with his pistol. Most of the others got angry when he did it to them. I just snapped awake and kept my mouth shut. I don't want to be on bad terms with a Pilot, friendly or not._

 _Blisk gave most of us a briefing today, giving us the real reason as to why we were here. Militia's moving in to hack Spectres on sight, add to their numbers to improve the odds. We were here to get them first, get them on our side instead. I figured something like that would be the case. IMC never moves in to extract anyone or legitimately defend something. It's always something that they get the biggest benefit out of. I'd say I don't know why anyone fights for them, but there's enough of a depression going on, I'd be lying. Either way, I have to prep my squad for battle later today._

 _We'll be under the command of Captain Moore. A rising Pilot star in the IMC, in other words, someone who has free reign to push us around in entirety. I don't really care what happens to him. I'm here to keep my guys safe, not him. Besides, he ordered us to burn down a house with a family inside three weeks ago. Said they might be Militia spies, but didn't want to get his hands dirty. And as it turns out, the family was clean, pro-IMC actually. So if he needs help from us, my men and I will be "occupied elsewhere"._

 _Figure he has his death coming._

 _\- Price_


	6. Entry 6

The Drop Ship begins to shoot off into space as she turns the next page.

 _Militia got a lot of Spectres today, and so did we. Militia pulled out first, Command thought we had won the fight. Turns out they left a virus that destroyed any Spectres that hadn't been already taken. Moore was killed in action, two Militia Pilots teamed up on him, one rodeo-ed his Titan, and the other used his own Titan to take him down. From what I heard, he was ripped straight out of his Titan, crushed in the hands of the Militia Pilot's Titan. Like I said before, guy had it coming._

 _As for my guys, we couldn't have done this mission more smoothly. Best thing about it was that there were no civvies to shoot on accident, or intentionally if the higher ups had their way. If I counted right, my squad killed 25 Grunts and 4 Spectres amongst the seven of us. I hear the Militia lost a few Pilots of their own too. All in all, a brutal, bloody battle for everyone involved._

 _Saw something kind of odd today. An IMC Pilot cornered a Militia grunt in his Titan. Titan raised his gun to kill the Militia Grunt, and then the Grunt lowered his head, got on his knees, and started crying. I saw the Titan lower his weapon slightly, and just look at the Grunt for a minute. Eventually, the Titan turned away, and sprinted somewhere else. I was just as surprised as the Grunt, but inwardly, I smiled to myself._

 _Turns out some of these hardcore IMC Pilots have some sense of mercy in them after all. I'll have to look up that Pilot's name. I found the serial number of the Titan already. Tracking the Pilot's going to be a lot harder, but with Moore dead, I might be able to request a transfer to that Pilot's command. Hope I can, after the stuff Moore forced my squad to do, I think we could all use a man with a decent conscience._

 _Whoever that Pilot is, I'm thankful to them for giving me some faith._

 _\- Price_


	7. Entry 7

Among the chatter of her team mates, she flipped the page again.

 _Turns out my squad was the only one that didn't suffer a single casualty, everyone else had one or two wounded guys in the best of cases, some squads were even reduced to just one man. Apparently the commanding officer on site thinks that's worthy enough to send reports of me off to the promotion board. Leadership like mine needs to be properly acknowledged and rewarded, according to him. I don't know, I don't think the board's going to pay me much mind. Something tells me a Sergeant, a Grunt no less, isn't going to rate very high on their list of importance._

 _I discovered another, more important, detail about my squad today. With Captain Moore and one other Pilot KIA, the IMC had a large host of Grunt squads now without a commanding officer. Some of them had already been sorted out, but a majority of them are still; "without the guidance of a Pilot", as the higher ups put it. My squad is one of them too, so the promotion thing might work out in my favor. If I can get the promotion to go through, I'll be a Staff Sergeant, at that point, a Grunt can request whom they wish to serve under, and I already have a few ideas._

 _I still don't know that one Pilot's name, but knowing the serial number of his Titan certainly will help. I'm hoping, that with a bit of luck, I can get my men and I transferred to that Pilot's command. I don't expect that to happen, but I'm hoping against my better judgment that it could. My squad has a bad reputation among the civvies in the Frontier. Come to think of it, all the squads serving under Moore did. No one was really a fan of the guy, to be honest. Regardless, getting put under the command of a Pilot with a moral compass would really help get my guys better reputations. Heck, some of us might even be seen as good men, not monsters._

 _A Grunt can dream, can't he?_

 _\- Price_


	8. Entry 8

There's a slight bump in the flight as it speeds off to the cruiser. She continues to read.

 _Things are looking good for my plan. The promotion boards were having a really slow couple of days, so the reports of me got to them and were checked out very quickly. I am now Staff Sergeant Desmond Price, and my squad size has increased by two men. Geoffrey Richmond and Ricky Mayville are their names. Privates fresh out of the academy, I remember how rough it was for me, so I'm going to make sure they don't get off to too rough of a start. Besides, Richmond apparently makes some pretty good meals if rumor is to be believed, so I'd rather be on good terms with him._

 _I let the men in on what I was thinking last night, and they're with me. I put in the request this morning, so all that can be done at this point is to hope and wait. Did a bit more research on that Pilot, but I didn't find much. Whoever he is, he's not too popular amongst the higher ups. According to rumors, the Pilot didn't follow commands having to do with killing on sight very well .I like this Pilot even more every day. Found out he's not very high up either, only a Second Lieutenant. I probably should have figured it'd be someone still a little wet behind the ears who would be giving this much of a finger to the IMC's procedures. I just hope they don't outgrow it, whoever they are._

 _Only time will tell, but I think this is the start of something really good for my squad. Heck, God knows, we certainly deserve it._

 _\- Price_


	9. Entry 9

The drop-ship lands in the hangar, standard procedures need to be followed before anyone gets let off, so she flips the page and continues to read.

 _It's been approved. My squad and I have been transferred to the new Pilot's command, effective immediately. Turns out they were trying to get some grunt squads to go under his command, but no one wanted to be led by the guy. Not entirely sure why, but it worked out for me and my men. I have a meeting with him tomorrow morning, and it turns out the Pilot likes to speak in the Grunt's living quarters. If it's anything like Moore, it'll just be him explaining to me what the expectations will be, specific commands, and other things of such nature._

 _Turns out, there are some rumors going around that Militia was planning on attacking a massive fuel depot sometime next week. Plan from command is to move out, set up a defensive position, and force the Milita to fight us for the depot. If all goes to plan, the IMC will be able to push the Milita back, and keep them from using it for whatever they're planning. The Pilot we've been assigned to is going to be the commanding officer of the operation. Something tell's me he's going to be needing us to play some role in it, especially considering how few squads he has under his command._

 _This is of course, assuming that the rumors are correct. I've seen several cases of the IMC taking a rumor seriously, and turning out to be nothing. Half of them made the IMC's already negative public opinion even worse. But, as command sees it, the times when they're right is what matters, not when they're wrong. So, it doesn't matter what Grunts, civvies, or even the Pilots say for that matter. If command wants to believe the rumors, there's nothing any of us can do. Not that there usually is anyway._

 _Regardless, I'm getting my men ready to move, and trying to get this place presentable for a Pilot before tomorrow, so I'm up to my neck in things I need to do. I've never been more at peace._

 _\- Price_


	10. Entry 10

She looks to her left as the drop ship doors open. Some pilots are waved out while others are ordered to remain there for a moment. She flips the page and resumes reading while she waits. On the opposite page is a drawing of a female pilot without a helmet. She carries what looks like a B3 Wingman in her right hand.

 _Met with the new Pilot today, and learned a few things. First, I was wrong in my assumption that she was a man, turns out, she's a woman. And, according to some uncalled for comments from my Corporal, a beautiful one at that. I expected her to just come in to let us know what the protocol for serving under her would be, but I was wrong about that too. The first thing she did was offer out her hand to me, then she told us to sit dow and asked for some of our more personal details._

 _Needless to say, we were caught off guard, big time. After our initial moment of shock, I was able to introduce myself and the rest of my squad. Poor ol' Johnson couldn't keep his eyes off her, and stammered like an idiot everytime she addresed him. This Pilot is so different from any other Pilot I've seen. She got to know us, swapped stories with us, and even shared drinks of our miserable excuses for refreshments for close to three hours before she said she had to attend to other matters. As if that experience hadn't been sureal enough for us, she left by smiling and saying she was honored to work with us. She even gave us her name. Samantha Arnolds._

 _This is easily one of the strangest days of my life, but at the same time, it's easily one of the best. I've never been proud to serve in the IMC before, even in boot camp I had a general idea that I wasn't going to be with the good guys in most of the battles I participated in. But Arnolds has changed that. For the first time, I feel like I'm giong to be doing good by going out into the Frontier. There's an old saying that goes; "Out with the old, in with the new."_

 _I don't think anyone could find a more fitting quote._

 _\- Price_


	11. Entry 11

After several hours of protocol, she is able to make it back to her own, private quarters. Nothing special, just a bed, a storage unit, and a gun rack. She lies down on her bed and opens back up to the page she left off on.

 _Vasquez - Codename: GOPHER (KNIGHT ACTUAL) *Responds to SENTINEL 2-5 Sometimes...*_

 _Arnolds - Codename: REAPER (SENTINEL ACTUAL) *Responds to KNIGHT 2-4 I think?*_

 _Price - Codename: STRIDER (SENTINEL 2-1) *Respond to GOPHER!*_

 _Johnson - SENTINEL 2-2 *Responds to STRIDER*_

 _Monroe - SENTINEL 2-3_

 _ESC._

 _We're on the move. Command got word that the Milita is watching the airspace and the orbit around the planet, so we're using a passenger space cruiser to move in to a city four hundred kilcks away from the target area. Once we get to the city, we're setting up a military convoy with Pilot Adrian Vasquez in the front and Arnolds in the back. Codenames have been established, though for the life of me I can't keep track of what I'm supposed to call anyone._

 _Each Pilot has been assigned two codenames, and their most trusted grunt squad leaders have been assigned one each. Not only that, but some of us have been ordered to respond to our own codenames, AND one that's been assigned to someone else. Command figures the system will make it a nightmare for anyone trying to plot an ambush on the convoy. I don't know about that, but it sure does work on giving us Grunts a headache._

 _Arnolds stopped by to socialize with my squad and I today. She was wearing a civilian jacket and tank top, and I almost didn't recognize her. We didn't really do much, just drank, shared some more stories, and took part in other unimportant antics. We all had a good time though. A few hours in Arnolds clapped me on the shoulder and told us she would see us around. She's awfully casual, and I'm starting to wonder how she became an officer._

 _Not that I'm complaining._

 _\- Price_


	12. Entry 12

She flips the page as she readjusts to make herself more comfortable.

 _Arnolds- MOTHER BIRD_

 _SQUAD LEADERS & SQUADNAMES-_

 _Price- SENTINEL_

 _Ramirez- VIPER_

 _Freeman- REPTILE_

 _Mochida- RANGER_

 _Hans- WIZARD_

 _Passenger ship touched down a few hours ago. We're still waiting on Vasquez and his crew before we ditch the civillian attire and form up the convoy. If I remember correctly, the Pilots will be gaining their Titans at the half way point, and we'll be double timing it from there on out. Command wants us to get there quickly, just in case the Milita's already there. I think we would have heard something in casual conversation or the news if that were the case, but I'm not paid for what I think._

 _Arnolds treated all her grunt squads to a meal once we touched down. Nothing too fancy, just some fast food from one of the resturants in the space port. Think it cost a bit more than she expected though, we Grunts actually have a pretty big appetite. That might have been why she was so relieved when half of us decided to pay for ourselves. She had the squad leaders sit at the same table as her to discuss the layout she would have us in once we got to the base._

 _Ramirez and I will have our teams guarding the front entrance, and as such will be the first into battle if anything goes haywire. Hans and Freeman are gonna be keeping a watch on the perimeter, and Mochida's squad is going to be watching the interior of the base since he has the largest squad of us all. Arnolds will be periodically checking in with all of us, and assisting us where she sees fit. Before we finished eating, she said she would be looking forward to working with Soap again. When I asked who the heck she was talking about, she told us that Soap was the name of her Titan._

 _Soap... What the hell kind of name is Soap?_

 _-Price_


	13. Entry 13

She flips the page.

 _Convoy arrived at the fuel depot not too long ago. By the time we got here, it was already nighttime. Combine that with moving nonstop and the space lag that was hitting everyone, and we were dead beat tired before we had even gotten inside. Mercifully, the Pilots had even seem to come down with a case of dreariness, and weren't too keen on getting everything set up._

 _The fuel depot itself was pretty unremarkable. Some guys in uniform carried clipboards, some moved stuff around, and every once in awhile a guy in a stupid looking hat would chastise some poor kid who probably wasn't making enough to deal with him. As for the actual layout, pretty standard. Walls surrounding it to keep it safe, a few outlying buildings to serve as housing for its workers, a mess hall, and whatever else I can't remember right now._

 _Arnolds had been in her Titan most of the time, and I found it somewhat amusing when her legs fell asleep on her and she stumbled out of her Titan. She gave us our "orders" and walked past us to speak with Vasquez. I say orders, but really it was just her telling us to get some shut eye. Needless to say, we didn't waste anytime following her orders. The only reason I'm writing this now is because I'm still having trouble falling asleep with my nightmares._

 _I honestly think my nightmares are getting worse. I find myself waking up in cold sweats, trembling, and even with tears on my face. I don't know if this is normal, considering what I've been through, but I feel awful. These nightmares are leaving physically and emotionally drained. Maybe I'll talk with Arnolds about it in the morning, maybe she'll know what's going on._

 _Then again, she's probably got enough to worry about without me trying to get a therapy lesson out of her. I guess I'll see what happens._

 _\- Price_


End file.
